The financial and aesthetic success of this tournament will ride on the men's semifinals today. As far as CBS is concerned, and quite probably your own household, Agassi has to beat Ferrero and Roddick must defeat Nalbandian. Based on the caliber of Friday's quarterfinals, the prospects look pretty good.

Agassi was in full command against Guillermo Coria, the talented Argentine who had beaten him at the French Open. Asked in Paris about his goal for Wimbledon, Agassi answered, "To play Coria." It didn't happen, but the U.S.

Open confrontation brought a 6-4, 6-3, 7-5 dismantling that reflected the vast difference in playing surface.

Roddick, his mind at ease and his game soaring under the tutelage of new coach Brad Gilbert, looks unstoppable right now. He has a 25-1 hardcourt record this summer and, in contrast to temperamental collapses in past U.S. Opens, looks very much the favorite. "I think he can stay on this level," said Sjeng Schalken after absorbing a 6-4, 6-2, 6-3 beating at Roddick's hands. "This guy has massive strokes, and he's so confident with his serve and groundstrokes, he just bombs you away.

"I would suggest that Andy not take too many holidays at the moment. Just keep on playing."

It wasn't long ago that Ferrero balked at Wimbledon, joining the "I'm fine without it" chorus of so many clay-court specialists. But in the last three years, the Spaniard has dedicated himself to being the world's No. 1 player. Currently ranked 3rd, he was devastatingly good in defeating Lleyton Hewitt, 4-6, 6-3, 7-6 (7-5), 6-1, for the right to take on Agassi.

Nalbandian has been admirably oblivious to the many distractions this week, basically laughing at his whining colleagues. Back home in Argentina, the economy is in shambles and the streets are dangerous. To him, a rain- delayed match does not equate to personal bankruptcy. He waits his turn, then goes out and destroys someone.

On Thursday, it was Roger Federer, who had shown enough at Wimbledon and this year's Open (particularly against James Blake) to make the average fan take notice. Nalbandian dissected his game, broke it down and sent him to the locker room, bewildered. And so it was on Friday against the thoroughly engaging but overmatched Younes El Aynaoui, whose memorable Open run ended in a 7-6, 6-2, 3-6, 7-5 loss.

The departure of Hewitt seemed strangely irrelevant. Many were startled by his run to the top -- it was forged largely on pure desire -- and they haven't been terribly surprised by his 0-for-4 in this year's majors. He seems to think he's climbing back to the elite, though, and he'd rather not count the Ferrero match, because he was tormented (particularly when serving) by a hip-flexor injury that required treatment in the third set.

"I felt like I played a great match against Paradorn (Srichaphan) last night, and I was taking it up another notch today," said Hewitt. "Then this thing flared up, and it was very disappointing. Not that it's any kind of excuse, though. Ferrero was just too good. You've really got to take your hat off to him."

This much should be said about the Sunday final, no matter how it shakes down: It's going to be a baseline test of will. People's reluctance to watch Nalbandian-Ferrero has nothing to do with American national pride. Something like Boris Becker-Patrick Rafter would be just the ticket, or Pat Cash-Henri Leconte. Anything with a touch of flair and ingenuity.

Rigid tennis enthusiasts might thrill to the sight of a 28-point baseline rally -- sort of like car mechanics dreamily listening to audiotapes of an old Indy 500 -- but it can represent the height of monotony. Even an Agassi- Roddick match could turn that way, although a duel of imagination (Agassi's drop shots and lobs, Roddick's increased forays to the net) could elevate the spectacle.

What everyone should remember is that this tournament is struggling, badly. It doesn't get much bigger than the U.S. Open quarterfinals, but there were thousands of empty seats for all four of them Friday, divided between the way-too-big Arthur Ashe Stadium and Louis Armstrong Stadium.

A lot seemed right at the end of the day. El Aynaoui got to go home to Barcelona, Spain, where he'll get his first look at his two-week-old son. Hewitt received yet another dose of humility. The sage of American tennis (Agassi) and its youthful bucking bronco (Roddick) seemed bound to a collision course. It may yet end well.